


The Wish Seller

by justgotowisharder



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Depression, Fantasy, Fingering, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy Harry, M/M, Sad Louis, Wishes, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-12 23:56:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1205245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justgotowisharder/pseuds/justgotowisharder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What’s a wish seller without a wish? Nothing. Harry knows it, but if Louis’ happiness means losing all his wishes, he’s ready to pay the price.</p><p>(Or the one where Harry sells wishes and Louis might need one... Or two)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wish Seller

**Author's Note:**

> First of all: THIS WORK WAS PUBLISHED BEFORE but i wanted to change a thing and i'm dumb and i deleted it, so i'm uploading it again with the changes:) 
> 
> Second, this fic was based 100% on my idea of a dream job. I'd love to be a wish seller, honestly.
> 
> Fr those who read this for first time... Enjoy! Also,[ stalk me on tumblr. ](ijustgotowisharder.tumblr.com)
> 
> -Lotts x
> 
>   
> [[ Read in Polish ](http://stuckinthecroud.tumblr.com/post/77094856189/the-wish-seller-one-shot-tlumaczenie) ]
> 
>  
> 
> [ Read in French [ by HarrehTops ](http://harrehtops.skyrock.com/3209664211-Traduction-1-The-Wish-Seller.html) and [ by Milca ](http://boys-x-love.skyrock.com/3208410855-The-Wish-Seller-Part-One.html) ]
> 
>  
> 
> [ [ Read in Spanish, translation by Micaela ](http://larryargentina.tumblr.com/post/81641720594/el-vendedor-de-deseos-traduccion) ]

Wish suicide.

Harry hates how it sounds.

He has heard about it so many times before. Wish suicide is the worst thing a wish seller can do, it happens when one of them uses a wish for his own purpose.

You don’t actually die, of course not. You just lose your wishes, but what’s a wish seller without a wish?

Harry is ready, anyway.

_So fucking ready._

If Louis’ happiness means losing his wishes, he’s ready to pay the price.

 

 

_**Six months before**  
_

 

 

Harry knows it.

He knows nothing is going to change.

All the same grumpy faces, the unhappy people doing unhappy jobs, unhappy girls waiting for messages that will never come, grumpy mothers with their children who refuse to go to school… _Everything is the same._

The realization doesn't stop Harry either way, because this, _this is his fucking job_ and he loves his job. So he puts the best smile on his face as he walks into the subway that Monday morning.

He doesn't shy away, he doesn't hesitate. He just starts speaking clear and loud, for everyone to hear.

“Hello a good morning, everybody! My name is Harry.”

Some curious eyes turn to him as soon as his mannish voice fills the gloomy atmosphere of the subway wagon. Harry is so used to this, so he simply smiles to those who are looking at him.

Okay, maybe his appearance isn't helping. His colorful shit, his tight jeans, his suede boots and his hat... But he's trying to give a good impression, so he needs to appear self assured. His fancy clothes make him feel pretty, and pretty makes him feel self assured.

“In this opportunity, I’m going to offer you a very special thing—" He takes a moment to study the reaction of his audience: nothing, of course. "I'm offering you an exclusive, one of a kind wish.”

_Nothing._

Everything is the same. Not a single soul is willing to believe in Harry, except maybe two little girls who are staring at him with wide eyes open. He smiles back at them, the youngest blushes visibility and hides behind her mother.

“I know all of you have a special wish inside your heart,” Harry proceeds to continue with his speech.

It's not like Harry doesn't know people is looking at him weirdly. People _is_ looking at him as he was some sort of miserable boy out of his mind. Harry is very sure of his sanity, thank you very much.

But he can't help feeling a little bad about them. People don't believe in magic, they don't at all. They grew up believing that magic belonged to the books and movies, not in real life.

It’s sad how many people just don’t believe. 

But Harry is used to it, okay? This is his job, he has been selling fucking wishes since he was fifteen years old. 

He has been through really shitty days, if he's honest. People used to mock him, laugh at him, they were so mean. Harry is a kind soul, bright and happy and it hurts him so much everytime someone doesn't believe.

That morning no one is paying attention to him, but he keeps talking because he still hopes that, someday, people will believe in magic again.

“It’s free, I’m not going to ask you for a penny,” he explains, in hope that pointing out the wish is free will catch their attention. It doesn't, of course. “You must close your eyes— and believe!”

The only one who closes their eyes is the little girl who has been staring at Harry since he started talking. The younger one is still scared and their mother seems to be in another place, looking by the window. Harry is glad that someone is taking a wish because he has a lot of them to sell, you know.

“Now think about your wish. See it. Imagine it. Live it.”

The subway is arriving at the station. Harry's time is over.

“Now, ladies and gentleman, to all those who took one of the wishes I'm selling, good job! Your wish will come true when you need it the most. Just keep believing and work hard to make it real! Remember: wishes are an extra help, but they can't work by themselves. Have a lovely day!”

Harry walks out of the wagon with a broken heart. He feels this emptiness inside his chest and he doesn't know how to make it better, honestly. He has become a wish seller to help people, but people don't want to be helped.

He really doesn’t know what to do, people don’t believe in magic and it doesn’t seem to change. It isn’t gonna change either and that’s so _heartbreaking_.

Without giving himself the chance to give up, Harry decides to wait in the subway station for the net train. Maybe he will get lucky this time, who knows.

He sighs as he leans against the wall, defeated. Next to him there’s a girl reading a book, probably a romantic novel. She may need a wish; maybe she wants to find the love of her life.

Then Harry glances then at an old woman who’s carrying a child on her arms. Probably they're granny and grandson. She’s talking and smiling, the child doesn't stop staring at her. She may need a wish to see his grandson grow healthy and strong.

_Everybody keeps a wish inside their heart._

Harry is not planning on stopping anytime soon, but he feels defeated. As his eyes travel by the station, he spots him.

A tiny boy who's curled up into a ball in the seat, staring at Harry. His eyes, oh god his eyes are as blue as the sky; but they're a little red and puffy, probably he has been crying.

His hair is styled on a swirl and Harry can't think straight because his mind is screaming _pretty pretty pretty_. He’s wearing a tank top, his tattoos are visible through the fabric.

Harry doesn't stop staring back. The boy holds his gaze, firm and secure, and everything Harry can think about it's— _pretty_. He swallows the lump in his throat as he tries to smile, but he's so mesmerized by the beauty of this boy that his muscles don't respond to his brain.

When Harry manages to smile, the boy looks away. He pretends Harry is invisible as he stands up and walks to the edge of the platform. Harry follows his moves with his eyes, the way his delicate hands hold his bag, the way his juicy thighs move as he walks— _Pretty._

The tight jean he's wearing should be illegal, Harry thinks. It isn't helping to his sanity how delicious this boy is and how tempting his ass looks in those jeans.

The boy has his headphones on so he probably doesn't hear a sound, but Harry doesn't miss when he looks by the corner of his eyes, trying to look at Harry.

When Harry catches his eye, the boy turns around to the railway, pretending Harry doesn't exist. The blue eyes of the guy stare at the tracks of the subway. He’s staring, but he has that expression someone has when is far from there. It’s like he’s expecting something…

Or not. Or maybe… Harry fucking sees when a tear falls down his cheek. It feels like a stab in his chest (which doesn't make sense because he doesn't know this stranger), but he can't help his curious soul as his boy moves towards the boy.

When he stands next to him, the guy takes off his headphones, turning at him.

"Can I help you, lad?" 

 _His voice, oh God_ , Harry's mind scream. he could wrap himself in that voice and fall asleep listening to it.

“Hum... I think I can help you," Harry replies, shyly.

"Oh, really?" the boys asks, cocking an eyebrow. It's clear he's being sarcastic and sort of mean to Harry, but he won't give up.

“Yep," Harry nods, he can feel the blush on his cheeks. "I noticed that you might need a wish.”

The boy doesn't even laugh at him. He just shrugs and mutters a weak "hum".

Thing is, _Harry needs this boy_. Why? He doesn't have the littlest idea, but he needs him close. He needs him to hold his hand, to kiss him, to— _Okay_ , maybe Harry is a losing his sanity.

Those blue eyes stare at Harry without hesitation, and they look so sad, so heartbreaking and Harry wants to hug him. Harry wants to talk to him, explain to him what he does for a living because the blue eyes boy looks like he needs a wish.

“I'm a wish seller,” he speaks with a tiny, shy voice, looking down at his feet. He is not ready to hear a mock, well, he's not ready to hear this pretty boy mocking him. Yet the boy does none of that. “I’m Harry Styles. I sell wishes and I notices you might need one— You know.”

The boy doesn't reply right away. He studies Harry with a furrowed brow, but his expression is so goddamn unreadable that it freaks Harry out. He pretends he doesn't notice the way his heart is thumping inside his chest because he doesn't want to admit how weak he is for this boy whose name doesn't even know.

“Thanks? I guess. I'm Louis, by the way”

“Nice to meet you, Louis," Harry replies, smiling and getting closer to him with shy moves, trying to gain proximity. Louis doesn't seem to mind, as he lets Harry get closer. "You only have to close your eyes. See it. Live it. Feel it.” He tries to speak as softly as he can, and they're so close, and Harry wants to kiss him— but he doesn't know this guy, _he doesn't fucking know him_. “You can use it later. Your wish is right here.” His big hand reach up to Louis' chest. He glances at him, asking permission, and as Louis doesn't stop him, Harry places his hand where the heart is located in the center of the chest. Harry swears the contact makes sparkles appear around them, he feels the electricity running through his veins and he swears Louis feels them, too.

“Keep it, and please, use it.”

The train has arrived. Harry doesn't want to let him go, he doesn't want to live another day without those beautiful eyes of him. Louis is staring at him with confusion in his pretty eyes, but he doesn't hesitate when he covers Harry's hand with his tiny ones. Harry is going crazy. Fucking crazy.

“It’s true, you know?” Harry explains, enjoying the way his skin burns where his and Louis' hands are touching. “The wish. I sold it to you, even when you don’t believe completely. You're a half-believer. Just—”

Harry doesn’t know what to know say next. He just nods awkwardly with the head, embarrassed.

“This is my cue to go, love,”  Louis mutters and Harry's heart skips a beat when he hears the nickname. "Thank you. I was needing this."

 

 

✦

 

 

The smell of cakes and sugar receives Harry as he walks into his mother's cupcake shop. Anne, his mother, is locked in the kitchen finishing a special order; while Gemma is counting the money on the counter. When the doorbell rings, she looks up to find his brother in the doorstep.

“Look who's here!” she exclaims happily. "The princess of the house!"

Harry rolls his eyes, smiling, as he approached his sister to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Hi, Gems."

“Mom is crazy because she has a big order to bake," she explains, his sister explains, pointing at the kitchen. "How was your day, H? Did you sell a wish?”

Harry bites his lower lip, blue eyes and tiny curvy body filling his mind. Louis, his lovely, sweet, beautiful Louis. Louis, the boy he will never meet again in his life. “I'm... Hum... I kinda sold a wish to a half-believer.”

Gemma looks up to him, bewildered. The money on her hands is forgotten as she stares at his brother with an expression that is very alike her mother's.

“Harry,” Gemma speaks out calm, but her face says otherwise. “Why did you do that? Mum told you—”

She doesn't finish talking when Anne opens the door from the kitchen and puts her head out the door, curious. 

“Harry, sweetheart!” Anne walks towards Harry with a happy smile on her face, wearing her pink apron, her hair is messy and sprinkled with flour. Harry loves how pinkish and cute his mother looks. He has always liked sweet things.

“Hi, mum.”

He hugs his mum tightly as he kisses her on the cheek. Anne smells like sugar and nice things, and Harry is glad to have the family he has because life is really rough with him sometimes.

“Bad day, honey?” Anne asks to him. "You look a little sad."

“Kind of,” Harry nods, sitting on a chair next to her. Louis is still lingering in his mind, his sad eyes are a puzzle Harry wants to put together. “It’s just— people don’t believe, mum. I don't like it.”

Anne stares at his son, attentive. She lets him talk his heart out and then kneels down in front of him, eyes locked on his.

“It’s a hard job the one you got, honey," she whispers, understanding. "I know that, it’s why I stopped selling wishes and I decided to open the bakery.”

“Which you called ‘Wishes Machine,'” Gemma points out from the background. “Really clever, mom.”

Anne chuckles, shaking her head. Harry tries to smile back, but he doesn't really feel like smiling. He's shit at selling wishes, but he doesn't want to do anything else. He loves, _loves the job_ , and Louis— Louis looked so sad, and he wants to help him. How Harry could help him being the shittiest wish seller in the world?

Wish sellers should make people believe, and he’s not making it.

“It’s not your fault, sweetie," Anne whispers. "People are so mundane nowadays. They need to believe, but they can’t realize about that. You keep doing your work, baby, we’re really proud of you, you know that?”

Harry wipes the tears that started to fell down his cheeks as he nods with he head. Mother and son melt in a tight embrace, and when Anne lets go.

Harry's family has a long tradition of wish sellers; both Anne and Gemma are wish sellers who gave up on their job when they grew tired of people. Harry doesn't really know when the whole tradition started, but he loves it.

Harry woks at the bakery, too, but his purpose in life is to be a wish seller. He still believes the world is full of beautiful things and he wants to give people hope… People need hope.

_Louis needs hope._

“Mom—" he decides to speak. "Today I gave away a wish to a half-believer,” Harry whispers, blushing.

“You did?” Anne asks, frowning. “Why?”

“Because—” Harry doesn't answer, as he doesn't know what to say. He gave Louis a wish because he was pretty, and Harry was so caught up on the infinity of his eyes and the beauty of his face.

Again, Harry has always liked pretty things.

“Oh God,” Gemma growls, crossing her arms against her chest. “He did it because the boy was fit.”

“Gemma!” Harry protests, embarassed. “You don't even know if he was a guy!"

"Your face made it obvious, H."

"No!" he denies, but then he adds, "well, yes, he was a boy! Mom, I did it because— yes, he was incredibly pretty, but he seemed really sad.”

Anne smiles warmly at him. His mother knows how soft Harry is when he finds someone who might need help, she doesn't condemns his son.

“It’s okay, Harry. But remember that you can’t sell wishes to someone who doesn’t believe. It's a risk for you and your magic, dear.”

"Louis believed. Just... Not entirely."

For Harry is really unfair that he can’t sell wishes to people who don’t believe. People who don’t believe are the ones who need them the most. But rules are rules, and wish sellers have to follow them.

“Yes, mum. Thank you.”

“Thanks to you you for doing this, honey. Wanna bake with you beautiful mom?”

 

 

✦

 

 

 _She's staring_.

Staring with her wide eyes open as Harry speaks his speech, trying to convince people to take a wish. She doesn't frown, she doesn't laugh, she seems genuinely interested on whatever Harry's saying and Harry can't take his eyes off her because— He's sure he knows this woman from somewhere.

Harry is pretty sure he has never seen her before, but the lines of his face, sometime thing about her eyes— He feels as if he knew this woman.

She seems to be in her early forties, dressed in a nurse attire. Her eyes are screaming with worry, fear and something Harry can't catch. Things in the subway are pretty calm that morning (as always), so Harry doesn't hesitate on approaching her.

“Hello, lady," he says polite, smiling sweetly at her. She reminds him of his mom, warm and cosy; but with a hint of someone else. "Sorry to disturb you, but I couldn't help noticing that you might be needing a wish.”

The woman stares at him, silent.The young boy can't help noticing how tired the woman looks. The bag under her splotchy eyes are hard to ignore, as well as the obvious exhaustion in her face.

(Harry swears he knows the look in her eyes from somewhere). 

“Excuse me, dear?”

Harry clears his throat, happy that she isn't being mean with him. “I'm Harry, a wish seller. I sell wishes to people who need them, and I would love to sell you one. If you want, of course.”

A shy smile appears on her face when Harry talks to her.

“You’re really kind, sweetie,” she whispers. “I’m not having a good day, honestly.”

“That’s why I’m here," Harry beams so wide that he thinks his face will break in two. He's so happy that someone is _believing_. "You can have your own wish.”

She chuckles, nodding as she says, “If you insist, I might take one. What do I have to do, Harry?”

“What’s your name?”

“Jay. I’m Jay.”

“My dearest Jay, just close your eyes and think about your wish. Feel it. Imagine it. Live it.” Harry isn't really expecting Jay to close her eyes, but his surprise is big when she actually does as she's told. He waits a couple of minutes until he speaks again, “There you got it. The wish is yours.”

Jay opens her eyes, smiling. She doesn't look any different, but at least she's a little happier. Yet Harry knows, he knows her wish will come true because he's quite proud to say he's really good at his job.

“Thank you. You really brightened my day, Harry.”

“It was a pleasure, Jay.”

She smiles again and Harry swears he has seen that smile before.

The old woman sitting next to them seems to be really interesting on Harry's wishes. When he's done with Jay, the woman calls Harry with a sweet pet name.

Harry can't believe this. His luck is actually changing.

 

 

✦

 

 

“I sold four wishes, mom!” he shouts cheerfully when he walks into the bakery. “Mom, four in one day!”

Nobody answers. The bakery shop is near to be closed, so Gemma must be somewhere. He calls her and, moments later, his sister appears on the place.

“Hey, dickhead!” she says. “Why were you yelling?”

“I sold four wishes today! That’s kind of awesome! That means I sold five wishes this week!”

“You’re wrong,” Gemma corrects him and Harry frowns. Why? What does Gemma know about his business?. “Today came a boy asking for you. He said you sold him a wish.”

“What?” Harry asks, surprised. Really, that’s the first time that something so huge happens. He never had feedback about his sales; he just sells wishes and expects them to come true.

“He said his name was Louis, and you sold him a wish even when you called him a ‘half-believer.'”

Louis. The boy with the blue eyes and the sad expression; the boy with the tattoos, the hair swirl, and the handsome face. Louis. What a lovely name, that now means the world for Harry.

“What? Are you serious? And what did you say to him?”

“The truth: you’re the best wish seller in London, but you don't appreciate your skills.”

“What?”

“And he said you’re dumb because he never believed in magic and now he does. He brought cupcakes as well and then he left.”

“Just like that? No phone? No note? No… nothing?” Harry asks her, clearly disappointed. He was expecting Louis to leave him a note with, at least, his number.

“Woha, calm down! Was he your bus crush?”

“My one-minute-love-of-my-life,” Harry jokes, but he means it in some way. They always jokes around with Gemma about the guys he meets on public transportation; but Louis is the very first one who really caught Harry's attention, and Harry is really, really willing to have a date. And maybe some kisses. And cuddles. And just…

“Did he told you what his wish was?”

Gemma rolls her eyes. “I guess it’s something personal, idiot. Of course, he didn't.”

“Oh,” Harry says, upset, but Gemma has a point. Louis was just a happy customer. Not a future on his life, as much as Harry liked him.

 

 

✦

 

Harry is not looking for Louis, of course (he is). Every time his eyes scan the multitude in the subway, he's hoping to find him, to see his beautiful blue eyes again.

But Louis is nowhere to be found. He was just like a dream, ephemeral, too perfect to be real. Harry doesn't want to give up, but he should. Thing like that only happens once in awhile, boys like Louis don't belong to boys like Harry.

He knows he can't use a wish because it's a basic rule. He knows he can't, but he wants it to hard.

He wants Louis _(and he doesn't even know him)_

 

 

✦

 

Harry knows he's in trouble. As soon as he walked into the wagon, he knew selling wishes at night could be a bad idea.

Right now, he understands it was a bad idea. The worst, in fact.

There's a couple in the corner too caught up in their kisses to notice anything except each other. Harry goes to sit in the seat nearest to the door, as he raises his eyes to find three men staring at him. He's not a judgmental person, don't get him wrong, but the guys are staring at him with a creepy expression Harry prefers to ignore, they're draped in black clothes, covered by tattoos. Their shaved heads don't really encourage Harry's trust.

“Hum—” Harry gives up on trying to say his speech because one of the guys is looking straight at him with a horrible smirk plastered on his face.

He smiles even wider when he notices how scared Harry is. “Hello, princess?”

Harry gets chills. He loves, _loves_ when people call him princess, but this guy has poured so many lust and threat in his voice that makes Harry shiver. He swallows the lump in his throat, ignoring the guy.

"Hey, I'm talking to you."

Harry bites his lower lip, watching by the corner of his eyes. When the guys stand up, he freezes. There's no one to help him, he's absolutely alone in this.

“Hi,” he says in a weak voice, hoping that his words could stop the mans from getting closer. He's wrong.

“Don't be shy, beautiful.”

Harry hates this. He absolutely loathes the way the men are treating him. He stands up in a failed attempt to show that he's not scared, getting closer to the door.

"Please," he mutters weakly when he notices the guys follow him. "Leave me alone."

 _Shit. Shit, shit,_ Harry thinks.

"Answer me something, kid," the second guy says, shamelessly grabbing Harry by his hair. Harry is fucking trembling, he wants the train to stop, he wants to escape. "Do you like dicks?"

Why should Harry have to answer that?

"I think he does, Oliver," the third one answers for Harry, who's absolutely motionless on his place, on the verge of tears. "Look at him. So princessy."

The man who's holding Harry by the hair approaches his ear and whispers, "Do you know what we do with fags? We hit them. Hit them really hard."

Harry breaks into silent tears. He doesn't want to, but he's so scared and he has never been in this situation before. "Please, no".

Harry's luck doesn't get any better when the train arrives at the station.

 

 

✦

 

 

“Harry?”

Someone is calling Harry’s name. Someone who clearly isn't part of his dreams, someone whose voice is delightfully loud and a little high-pitched. Someone whose voice Harry heard before, a voice he knows.

Harry opens his eyes.

A hospital room welcomes him, the sunlight passing through the window. He turns his head to one side, trying to check if he's alone, and he finds a nurse. He tries to movie, but everything hurts. That's when he realizes that he’s laying on a bed and his body is covered on bruises and wounds.

He closes his eyes trying to remember what happened and… oh, the guys.

Harry gasps when he remember the past events, trying to collect himself. When he opens his eyes again, there's someone staring at him. A guy sat on the edge of his bed, a beautiful, pretty tiny boy with big blue eyes.

“Louis?”

Okay, Harry is dreaming. He's hundred percent dreaming, right?

The boy nods, the smile on his face is difficult to hide and Harry loves it _(loves him)_

Why is Louis there? How the hell all happened? Is he dreaming?

“Looks who's up! The wish seller!” the nurse exclaims, turning to him. "Hello, dear! Your mother and sister are in the cafeteria, you're safe with me."

When Harry looks at her in the eyes, he knows right away who she is.

"Jay."

“Oh, you remember my name! That’s so lovely from you, Harry! How are you feeling?”

“Hurt,” Harry replies hesitantly, Jay helps him to sit up on the bed.

“Of course you're, darling. They hit you pretty bad, I’m so sorry," she says as she checks his blood pressure. "What did you do?”

“Nothing really,” Harry replies, looking down at his feet. "They hit me because... Hum, because I like boys?"

"Oh my God," Jay mutters, shaking hear head. "I'm so sorry to hear that, dear. I wish this world was nicer to people."

"It's the first time that happened to me."

"Happened to me twice," Louis adds awkwardly from the place where he's sitting.

Jay turns to his son as soon as he talks.

"Oh, Harry, I forgot to introduce you my son. Louis, he's..."

“Harry, the boy who sells wishes on the train,” Louis finished for her. Jay doesn't add a word, clearly astonished.

“Do— Do you know him?”

Louis nods, his cheeks turning pinkish. “He sold me a wish once.”

“And the wish came true?”

“It did now,” Louis asks, looking at Harry by the corner of his eyes.

 

 

✦

 

 

Harry wants Louis. He really, really wants him.

After their first 'date' (Harry isn't sure if he can call it date, since he doesn't know what Louis wants), he knows he wants Louis.

It scares him how much he wants it. Behind those blue eyes of Louis, Harry sees thousands of secret and broken promises he wishes he could mend. He wants to know everything about Louis, and know a little more.

Yet Louis doesn't ask him for a second date.

Maybe he doesn't want to be known.

"Mum."

Harry definitely hasn't been counting the days since the last time he heard from Louis _(he did)_. Three days after, he decides it's time to speak about it, at least not directly.

"Mmm?" Anne mutters, eyes fixed on the perfect frosting she's trying to make.

"What if I want to use a wish from the ones I sell? Like, for..."

Anne drops the mixer, ruining her perfect frosting as the sticky topping splashes all over the table. She doesn't seem to mind anyway, as her eyes are locked on Harry.

"Harry Styles, don't you dare to try, okay?" she asks, serious as she rarely is. "Never."

Anne doesn't seem to be joking or taking it lightly, so Harry nods. "Okay... Can I ask why?"

Her mother sighs in relief, resting her arms against the table.

"Wish sellers aren't meant to use their wishes, dear," Anne explains, her fingers cleaning up a drop of frosting. "This is really special, dear. We can help other people to get what they wish for, but in order to be a wish seller, you have to lose any selfishness inside you."

"Using a wish is not selfish!" he protests, a little mad. He doesn't want to use a wish for him, he wants to use it for Louis. Well, to get a second date with Louis, which technically includes the two of them so it's not strictly for him. That's not selfish, isn't it?

"Yes, it is, dear."

"Mom, that's unfair."

Anne shrugs. "Rules are rules."

Harry opens his mouth in order to reply, but Anne doesn't seem to be up to hear recriminations. It's obvious she takes the whole subject really seriously.

"Harry, dear," she adds, quietly. She's looking at him with those eyes, those inquisitorial eyes of a mother. "Why are you asking me this?"

Harry rolls his eyes, pretending it isn't a big deal. He feels his cheeks turning reddish, but he tries to ignore it.

"I might— I met a boy and—"

Anne's face softens when Harry starts talking. He doesn't keep talking, anyway, because he wants a wish to get a second date and that makes him feel absurdly stupid, but he doesn't bring himself to stop.

"That's the magic of a wish seller. You have to be someone else's wish."

And it's nice, to think that someone could make of Harry his wish. But those kind of things never really happen in real life, you know.

"I'm never going to be someone else's wish mom," he says in a soft voice, staring at his shoes. He doesn't like the feeling of emptiness inside his stomach.

"Never say never, my boy."

"Shut up, Anne Bieber."

 

 

✦

 

"You really sell wishes?"

It's a little girl the one who stands up and walks towards Harry that morning, amazed with his speech. The subway is almost empty, but Harry doesn't mind.

He kneels down in front of the blonde little girl and smiles to her. "Yes, princess."

"Do they really work?"

"Of course they work!" Harry nods, poking one of her pinky cheeks. "But, you know what? Wishes are a little help, but you have to work hard to make it happen."

"I know," she nods, smiling. "Tiana has said it!"

Harry giggles, nodding his head. He loves kids, children has always been his weak spot.

_(Okay, maybe his weak spot now is Louis, not children)_

"Daisy, where have you been?! I told you to stay with me!"

Harry doesn't need to hear that voice twice to know who's speaking.

"Jay!" He cheers happily, smiling hard. Jay is carrying two heavy shopping bags and the concern in her face is obvious, but her expression softens when she spots Harry.

"Harry, it's so nice to see you!" she sits down in one of the many empty seats, Harry imitates her. "Sorry about my girl, she can be a little chatty sometimes."

"I think she's lovely." Harry means it.

"Do you know him, mom?" Daisy asks, excited, approaching his mother.

Jay looks at her daughter and smiles, nodding with the head. "Yes, darling. He's a friend of Louis."

Harry's heart skips a beat when Jay speaks his name. He freezes on his place and pretends everything is fine, but the lump in his throat isn't easy to ignore.

He wants to ask, he wants to know. He needs to know, that's why he decides to man up and speak out.

"How Lou is going, Jay?" he asks, collecting all the bravery he has.

The woman turns to him, frowning. She looks confused and Harry doesn't understand why.

"Aren't you guys talking?"

"Not really," Harry whispers, shrugging. He doesn't want to make obvious how upset he is. It's not really odd that Louis decided to stop talking to him, at the end of the day, they were just knowing each other.

Harry shouldn't have been so smitten with him.

_(But he is)_

"Oh God, he did it again," Jay mutters, looking down at her feet.

Harry knows he shouldn't ask, but he asks anyway, "He did what?"

Jay looks up at Harry and it surprised him the sudden change on her face. She's serious, almost sad when she looks at him. Daisy notices the change of attitude on her mother, too, so she turns silent and decides to sit and play with her mother's phone.

"Harry—" Jay speaks slowly. "Harry, I'm so sorry to hear this. You're so sweet, so good to my son. Louis kept talking about you for weeks, you know?"

Harry tries really hard to stop the smile that's trying to break his face, but at the end, he can't help it. Jay's confession makes him all giddy and warm inside, but at the same time he can't stop asking why, why Louis decides to never talk to him again.

"Harry, dear, what I'm going to tell you is really personal, but my son... I mean, he still talks about you." She sighs, biting her lower lip. "My lovely Louis has been struggling with that little mind of him lately. He always thinks he's not enough for anyone, and you're not the exception." Harry stares at her, the words sinking into his mind. Louis is enough. How is it possible that he could think such a thing about himself? "It's worst with you, dear because he thinks he doesn't deserve it."

Harry is lost for words when Jay stops talking. He doesn't really know what to say and he doesn't want to say anything stupid either, so he lets his mind wander into the thousands of thoughts that are forming inside his mind.

First, Jay is telling Harry that Louis likes him. Him, Harry.

Second, Louis is struggling with himself. Harry has he urge to let him know how beautiful, wonderful he is.

Third, Jay is talking to Harry like they have known each other for years and that means only one thing: Louis really likes Harry and Jay knows it.

_(Harry really wants to use a wish right now. Really. Fuck rules)_

"I didn't know," Harry mutters in a low voice, resting a comforting hand on Jay's back. "I'm so glad you trust me enough to tell me this, Jay.

"Oh, shut up, Harry," Jay says and a shy smile appears on her face. "You're a gem, dear. I don't want my son to lose you."

Harry thanks her with his whole heart, finding no words to express his feelings. He picks his phone and doesn't hesitate as he texts Louis his real thoughts.

 

**Don't care what you think, you shine brighter than the sun and I'm willing to sell all my wishes to you xx**

 

Harry doesn't really expect Louis to answer, but, of course, he's completely wrong. When his phone buzzes, Louis just wrote:

 

**that means you want a second date? :) xx**

Harry suddenly wants to smile.

 

 

✦

 

 

It gets better after the second day. Louis starts opening to Harry, starting to let Harry know his little things, his fears, his secret thoughts.

Harry couldn't be any prouder, he wants to be there for Louis, always. He wants to hold his hand, to kiss his sadness away, to prove him every single day how wonderful he is.

(Also, he wants to kiss him. Kiss him hard)

They start to hang out more, developing a close relationship and starting to become really attached to the other.

Harry knows it, he knows his embarrassingly smitten with the boy. Everything Louis' makes his heart flutter, he needs him, he needs to see the light shining from Louis' eyes.

Harry knows it; he knows he’s falling in love with Louis.

But then again, Louis falls into a dead, prolonged and scary silence.

Harry doesn't hear a word from him in a week and that's when he starts to panic.

His Louis, the only person in the entire planet who spoons him without even asking why, the boy who makes him the happiest man on earth... Where's his Louis?

He texts him, but he gets no answer which makes him feel even more nervous _(if that's even possible)._

That's when he starts to want it, he wants to use a wish. There's nothing he wants more than for Louis to be happy. The thing is, he's a fucking wish seller, he has the solution right on his hands.

Use a wish to make someone else happy... That can't be considered selfish, Harry thinks. He isn't being selfish if he wants Louis to be happy, right?

_(Harry hates rules, honestly)_

He doesn't use a wish, anyway, because he doesn't want to disappoint his mum. Being a wish seller is one of the most important things for him, so like it or not, he must stick up to the rules.

It's a rainy night when Harry finally receives the call he has been waiting for three fucking weeks.

He's lying on bed about to fall asleep when his phone lights up as it starts buzzing on the nightstand.

Harry doesn't react at first, lost in his daydreams; trying to find the source of this sudden lighting. When he realizes it's his phone the one buzzing, he wakes up and picks up, worried.

"'ello?"

"Harry."

Louis.

_Louis, his Louis._

Louis' voice sounds choked and low, it's not difficult to tell that he has been crying. It breaks Harry's heart in a million of pieces because he really wants Louis' happiness.

_(He really loves Louis)_

"Lou," he whispers, his voice trembling. "Lou, what's wrong? I was so worried about you—"

He has so many things to say, but he doesn't want to

"Harry. Harry, baby, please," Louis stutters and he breaks into a silent sob. Harry's heart is beating crazily inside his chest, he wants to do everything under his power to help him, but he can't do anything at the moment. "Please, sell me another wish. Please."

Harry doesn't know where he gets the strength to reply.

"Lou, calm down, okay? Can you do it for me, gorgeous?" Harry whispers, trying to make his voice sound firm. He's fucking dying inside, drowning in his need to cuddle and kiss Louis better. "I'm here, okay? Tell me what's wrong. We can fix it together."

"No, Haz," Louis refuses in a low voice. "Babe, I don't want to—" Louis hiccups, breathless because of the crying. "You don't have to get trough this. You're so lovely, so—"

Harry knows where Louis is going, so he quickly interrupts him. "Louis, stop. Please, don't dare you to say you don't deserve me."

"But—"

"I'm like the fairy godmother. I sell wishes," Harry adds, trying to bring a smile to Louis' face.

He swears he hears the smile cracking his face before Louis chuckles.

"I know," Louis says quietly. Harry stands in silence, hearing Louis' breathing. He needs so much to have Louis physically with him. "You're perfect, Harry. I don't—"

"Lou, please," Harry stops him. "You're the perfect one here, Louis Tomlinson. I don't care if you trust me or not, you're. You don't need another wish. You need to realize how fucking perfect you are."  
"Haz, I don't—"He breaks in the middle, letting go of a hurt, sad sniffle. Harry’s heart aches, it hurts if Louis is hurting. "I don't know how to be happy anymore."  
Harry doesn’t need anything else.  
As he hears those broken words, he gets up from the bed, picking up the first clothes he finds in his closet. It doesn't matter how late it is or how strong the rain is falling outside, Louis needs him and he's willing to go to the fucking end of the world for him.  
"I'm coming, Lou. Just, wait for me."  
"Harry, it’s—"  
“No,” Harry interrupts him, serious. “I want to be there. With you.”  
He hangs up, giving Louis no chance to reply or reject Harry’s offering. He grabs his car keys, writes a quick note to his mom and runs towards the garage, ready to go.

When Louis opens the door, the sigh in front of Harry breaks his heart once again. His eyes are red and puffy, his hair all disheveled and messy. His cheeks are wet on tears, his blue eyes so hurt and so sad that it gives Harry chills.

“Lou.”

"Harry, you shouldn't,” he speaks huskily, shaking his head.

Harry runs towards Louis, knowing exactly what he needs. When Louis collapses on his arms Harry holds him, holds him tightly, whispering sweet words of comfort in his ear.

"Shhh, Lou," Harry whispers in his ear. "I'm here with you. Everything is going to be okay."

They move towards the couch where they collapse cuddled up together. Harry grabs a blanket from the floor and wraps Louis with it, putting a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Thanks, baby,” Louis whispers. “For being here.”

“Always,” Harry nods, reaching Louis’ hands, linking their fingers. They remain a long time in silence, just watching each other and lost in the warm love they share. “Gonna make some tea, Lou.”

Louis's kitchen is small and cozy, he has lots of tea boxes so it isn't hard for Harry to find one. When he comes back to the living room, he finds Louis curled up on the edge of the couch, wrapped in the blanket like a proper little kitten.

Harry smiles to himself, finding once again how gone he is for this boy.

Louis needs so many wishes, and Harry is so ready to sell him every single one of his.

"Thank you, Haz," Louis says as sips his tea before adding, "and I’m sorry."

"For what?" Harry asks, snuggling close to Louis, who buries his face on the crook of Harry’s neck, nuzzling his nose against his milky skin.

"Sorry for not talking to you this week,” Louis replies in a shy, timid voice. “I was so… Stupid.”

"No need to apologize, Lou,” he says and he means it. He kisses the top of his head before going on. “I just— I just wish you could see how wonderful you are. It breaks my heart to see you hurting, baby. I…" he swallows up his words because this is not the right time, Harry. “I like you so, so much. Okay?”

Louis cracks a smile. "Well, you're a wish seller, take one of your wishes."

Harry shakes his head, serious. "I can't. Job rules."

"Oh," Louis replies gloomily. “Can’t you use your own wishes?”

“Nope. First and most important rule in our business.”

They drink they tea on silence, snuggled up against each other. Louis is curled up into a small ball as his thumb caress Harry’s wrist softly, almost in as un unconscious motion, and Harry loves, loves how his skin burs right when Louis touches him.

“Haz—” Louis finally break the silence, his voice soft like cotton. “Can I… Hum, Can I ask you something?”

Harry stares at him, lost in those pretty eyes of him, wanting, aching to kiss Louis and protect him from the world to make him happy.

 “Of course you can, Lou.” Harry gives him an encouraging squeeze, making Louis smile a little.

“Do you… Do you really sell wishes?”

Harry doesn’t really know where the question is coming from, but he won’t ask. He’s surprised that Louis is asking him this after all the time they have shared together. He thought there wasn’t kind of doubt in him.

“Of course, baby,” he nods and gets closer to Louis, reaching his hand to Louis’ cheek, sliding his fingertip by the sharp lines of his cheekbones. “Of course. I thought you believed me.”

“I do, I do believe in you,” Louis nods, blushing. Harry wants to kiss him. “But— it’s so beautiful and… Weird. I mean, people don’t believe in you.”

“I know, most of them don’t. But,” Harry points out, leaning into. They’re starting to get closer, Harry notices. He isn’t ready to make a big step, but the closeness they’re sharing it’s too delightful to deny. “But some of them believe.”

“I do.” Louis’ voice is barely audible. His eyes are fixed on Harry’s, firm. “I do believe in you.”

“That’s right,” he nods, glancing at those thin and temping lips of him. “What did you wish the day we met, Lou?”

“I thought it was obvious,” Louis chuckles, rolling his eyes. “I wished I could meet you again.”

They’re so close, so close to be kissing and finally letting go of all his barriers and give themselves to this crazy yet strong love they’re feeling.

“Really?” Harry asks and still sounds surprised because it’s difficult to get the fact that someone as perfect as Louis Tomlinson wants him.

“Of course, babe. You are so… You. I was having a rough week, you know? I don’t get along so well with my mind,” he laughs latterly when he says it. “But then you came. And I wanted to see you again.”

“That’s why you came to say thanks to the bakery.”

“I did,” Louis confesses, nodding with the head. “It isn’t difficult to find you, Haz. I knew you were kind of famous on the subway, so I asked. But you weren’t at the bakery.”

“If a wish doesn’t happen, it doesn’t mean is never going to happen. It means you’re not ready for it,” Harry quotes and he can’t remember where he heard the quote, but he likes it really much.

“That’s lovely,” Louis nods. It’s painful how close yet how far they are. Harry feels his heart thumping inside his chest, fucking dying to kiss Louis from once and all. “It’s so— awesome. To think that you sell wishes. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s nice, yes,” Harry nods. He really likes talking to Louis, don’t get him wrong, but right now he wishes he would shut up and let him kiss him. “It isn’t nice when people don’t believe, but I guess its part of the business.”

“They’ll do it eventually.”

It feels like a promise, and even if Harry knows Louis can’t make it true, it’s the intention what matters.

Their faces are close, really close. Harry’s eyes drop to Louis’s lips.

“Haz—”

Louis is leaning into. His eyes flutter shut as Harry answers. “Mmmm?”

“Can you sell me a wish now?”

“Whatever you want, Lou.”

“Well— I’m wishing to have a nice kiss from a certain boy.”

Harry smirks, pleased.

“You don’t have to use a wish, because I really want to kiss you.”

Before Harry can fall into realization, he’s finally, finally kissing this boy that’s driving him completely, entirely crazy.

They kiss as if they were the air they need to breath, they kiss as if tomorrow doesn’t exist. Louis opens his mouth, letting Harry dominate the kiss as he pulls him closer, sucking, wanting, tasting.

It’s Louis who breaks the kiss when he’s finally breathless.

"Harry," he gasps.

"Lou?" Harry asks, opening his eyes.

"Are you— this is really happening? Did you just kiss me?"

Harry kisses him again, just for reassurance.

And again.

_(And again)_

 

 

**_Present time_ **

****

Harry is ready.

_“Louis's happiness worth everything in this life, even all my wishes, mum.”_

_“Harry, you can’t do it!” Gemma screamed. “You can’t give tour wishes away for a boy!”_

_“Louis is not just a boy, Gemma, please understand that!”_

Harry is so fucking ready.

He doesn’t know if he’s right or if he’s wrong. He just knows he wants to help Louis.

_“Mum, please let him see the mistake he’s about to make!”_

_Anne knew, she knew before Harry decided to do it. She knew because it’s so easy to read his son, to understand his feeling._

_“I can, dear.”_

_“Why, mum, why?”_

_“Because I’m in love with him!” Harry roared, tears prickling his eyes. “And I’m ready to give it all for him!”_

He collapses in bed, lack of energy. All the lights are turned off and the only sound comes from the wall clock. Harry closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tries to concentrate on taking his wish.

His heart is beating furiously inside his chest, he’s positive he never felt his anxiousness before. He’s about to die.

It’s like… He feels like he’s standing on the edge of a mountain, ready to fall. It doesn’t matter if he knows he won’t die in the end, the strength required to jump is so difficult to find.

He’s a wish seller. His family has been selling wishes since he has memories, he’s going to lose it all for a boy.

The boy with whom he fell in love irremediably, hard and without even noticing.

He counts to ten, knowing what he has to do next. He knows exactly what to do to use a wish.

“Okay, you can do this,” he mutters to no one in particular.

He can't hear a sound; he can't see a thing. All what matters is what he's about to do.

He’s not regretting it _(not a bit)_ , but he can’t help feeling weird. Afraid of the future.

There will be no tomorrow after that. No more wishes. No more job. A shiver runs down Harry's spine and he suddenly finds himself scared. Scared of the future, because... What is he going to do next? He doesn't have a plan, he's just acting by pure instinct.

Wow. Who would have said that his life as wish seller could be so short?

He’s about to picture the wish when someone knocks on the door. Why the hell someone has to interrupt him on something so important as losing all his fucking wishes?

“Harry, please, open the door!”

It’s Louis. Louis!

Harry gets up and runs towards the door. He unlocks it, the light from the hall way blinds him for a moment, and then his eyes see Louis standing by the door, so handsome and pretty.

“Lou?”

“Harry are you insane?” he yells, and oh… he’s angry.

“Wh—what?” Harry mutters, confused.

“I called you. Your mom picked up and told me you were about to commit wish suicide!”

“God, she’s overreacting!” Harry exclaims, irritated by the tendency his mother has to exaggerate everything. “I was just about to use a wish and—”

“Your mom told me that if you use a wish, you can loose all the wishes you have,” Louis says, raising eyebrows. It’s dark inside the room, but Harry’s eyes are used to it so he can see Louis pretty well. “Is it true?” Harry doesn’t answer. “Tell me, Harry, is it true?”

“Yes,” he whispers.

Louis hits Harry on the shoulder. Even when he’s tiny and small, when he’s angry he seems much older and bigger than he actually is.

“You fucking twat! Harry, selling wishes is your skill! You were meant for it, you can’t let it go because of yes!” he shouts, without caring if Anne or Gemma or whoever can hear his yells. He seems only worried about the fact that Harry was about to lose his wishes.

“Believe me or not, Louis, I have a reason,” Harry growls.

Louis approaches Harry and grabs him by the shoulders. He's frowning and his eyes are asking, begging for Harry to listen. When he grabs Harry, the younger boy notices that Louis's pulse is shaking, maybe it's fear, maybe it's anger.

“Harry! No reason in this world—”

“Shut up, Louis,” Harry yells. He steps back and walks towards the bed, kicking the edge of it violently. He’s so fucking angry, because he was about to help his Louis and now he’s the one ruining everything. Why is everything so fucking difficult? Why he had to be the wish seller?

“Don’t tell me to shut up!” Louis exclaims. He doesn't approach Harry; he just stares at him. Harry's looking down, biting his lower lip angrily. By the other hand, Louis seems like he wants to punch Harry to make him react; he doesn't look sad or broken; he looks upset.

They fall on a dead silence, Louis staring at Harry with wide eyes, not believing what’s happening. After a moment, Louis walks slowly towards Harry, the boy doesn't stop him or moves back. He just waits until Louis grabs his hand and squeezes it tenderly. Harry intertwines their fingers together and moves a bit closer to Louis, who falls into Harry’s arms and buries his face on the younger boy’s chest.

“Don’t do it, Harry," Louis babbles and his voice sounds like a melody for Harry. "You’re so lucky for having such a great job. Please, don’t lose it for nothing.”

“Lou,” Harry says and this time, he speaks softly and low. He puts a finger under Louis’s chin and moves his head until they’re facing each other. “Lou— you’re the reason. I want to use a wish for you. I want you to be happy.”

Louis freezes up. He stares at Harry and his mouth drops open, disbelief on his face. Wow. Wow. Just wow. They stop breathing for a moment because they’re afraid that a single sound will break the bubble which is surrounding them. They don’t say anything. And Louis can’t find any word to express what is feeling, and Harry suddenly has the urge to kiss him, and hug him, and cuddle with him…

“Harry,” Louis finally whispers, startled. “Harry, you— you want to do it— for me?”

“Yes,” Harry assures and the sparkle that he sees in Louis’s eyes when he nods its the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. “I’d do anything for you, Louis.”

Louis opens his mouth, but he’s lost for words. As he doesn’t find any way to express the joy that is overwhelming him, he just steps forward and looks for Harry’s lips.

Softly, he presses his lip against Harry’s. Just a peck, a soft peck, but enough to make him understand what he’s feeling inside.

Harry doesn’t move. The kiss is so innocent; it speaks louder than any word. He just closes his eyes and feels the touch of Louis, the warmth of his lips against his own.

“Babe,” Louis whispers, resting his forehead against Harry's. He’s standing on his tip toes, and that’s so fucking cute. Harry wraps his waist with his arms, helping him to stand like that for a while. “You don’t need to use a wish to make me happy. Just… Be with me. That’s all.”

Harry swears he’ll remember those words for the rest of his life. Because… Well, because of reasons. Then he speaks, he does it without even think about it, because if he wants Louis and Louis wants him... What is he waiting for? Wishes aren't the only source of magic: love is another big source of it.

"I'm happy if I'm with you," Harry assures and slides his finger by Louis's collarbones. "I'm happy if you are happy. I'm—" He takes a deep breath and just says it, "I'm in love with you, Louis. All you."

Louis’s blue eyes shine with tears, but this time, they’re happy tears. He presses his body against Harry's and hugs him tightly.

"I love you too, Harry," Louis says and buries his face on his shoulder, wetting his boy's shirt with his tears, but Harry doesn't care. "I love you so much, and it scares me as hell. Because you're so beautiful and maybe you—"

“Shut up. Don't over think. Just—Would you be my boyfriend, Louis?” he asks without even thinking if it's the proper time or the proper place. He just wants Louis.

“Fucking yes," Louis says, and his voice trembles. "Fuck, of course, yes,” he kisses Harry quickly and desperately.

"I love you, Louis," Harry says, mouth still glued to Louis's. "I love you with my whole being."

"I love you too, sunshine," he says back. They keep kissing each other's mouth until Harry breaks the kiss, short of breath and with his lips all puffy, and admires how flushed Louis looks.

"Lou," Harry whispers and damn, he sounds needy.

Harry lays Louis down on the bed, him being on top.

His heart is pounding, and his mind is out of control, his need of Louis controlling every bit of his body.

"Lou, please, please let me have you," Harry begs and leans down to suck a hickey on Louis's neck, the boy reacting with a low moan. "Please, I need to feel you."

Harry sees in Louis's eyes the fear of being with someone for the first time. He smiles sweetly at him and places a kiss to his forehead.

"Harry, babe," Louis stutters, gripping Harry's shirt.

"Shh, we have the entire life to make love," he says quietly, running his finger along Louis's puffy lips. "I only want to touch you, Lou."

"Harry—"

"Lou?"

"God I love your voice," Louis moans and joins their mouths in a needy kiss. "It's so— Deep."

"I love yours," Harry says while his hands run down Louis's chest. "I love everything yours."

Harry quickly rubs Louis's crotch with his hands, smiling against the older boy's lips when he moans. Louis is damn hard, and that makes Harry go crazy. He wants to touch Louis. Now.

"Let me touch you, Lou. Please, be a good baby for me."

Louis looks into Harry's eyes, trying to see something that indicates him what are Harry's intentions, and he sees nothing but love shining on them. It makes him chill, the love Harry has for him is insanely endless.

"Do it, Haz," Louis nods.

Harry doesn't wait a minute to take off Louis's jeans, finally, finally watching him open for him. Harry grinds down his hips against Louis's, rubbing their hard dicks, feeling the pleasure slowly taking control of their minds.

Louis moans Harry's name softly and quietly, and if that's the beginning... Well, Harry is already excited to live the rest of his life by Louis's side.

Their bodies react at every single touch like they have been made to be together. Harry quickly finds Louis's weaker points, kissing his body, licking his skin, rubbing their crotches.

"Harry, Harry, I need—"

"You need what, baby boy?" Harry asks naughtily, getting closer to Louis' ear, "my fingers?"

Louis nods frantically and Harry slides his hand under Louis's boxers. He touches his boy' hard dick and teases him, making him beg for more until he places a hand behind Louis's waist, arching his back a little to have full access to his arse.

"Let me do it," Harry pleads.

The tip of his finger slides by the ring of Louis's arse, and there is only a brief moment until Louis is crying for more, for Harry to be inside him.

"Lick my fingers, pretty boy," he asks, reaching his hand to Louis's mouth, who accept gladly his fingers and sucks them lustfully. "Good boy."

Harry quickly places his finger on Louis' entrance but doesn't shove in, wanting to hear Louis's begs. Once he's done teasing; he carefully introduces a finger, Louis chokes at the first intrusion.

Harry waits for Louis to adjust and then shoves in another finger, curling them inside him. Louis is now moaning loudly, gripping Harry's arm forcefully.

"Like it?"

"More," Louis babbles, shoving his bum down, fucking Harry's finger.

Harry puts a third finger inside and starts shoving in and out, trying to find Louis's prostate. Once he hits it; Louis cries Harry's name in a way that makes Harry burn into flames.

Once Louis is made a crying mess, Harry considers proper to take care of Louis's throwing dick, sucking him off, Louis coming all over Harry.

"Hey," Harry whispers while Louis tries to recover his breathing. "You're beautiful when you're a sex mess."

"Shut up," Louis says, his cheeks red of embarrassment. Harry giggles and opens his arms, Louis quickly finding his way to his body. They curl up together; limbs tangled, and Louis waits until he's calm to say, "promise me something."

"Whatever you want, Lou."

Louis smiles at Harry, his face getting crinkly and lighted up, making him wonder how in hell someone can look so cute.

"Keep selling wishes, doesn't matter what happen," he asks softly. "Because you were my wish, and if it came true— Well, all dreams can come true."

 

 


End file.
